


I feel like I'm drowning

by AnotherLoser



Series: growing up, it made me numb [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Addiction, Codependency, Depression, Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Peter is almost 21, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 20:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16353374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherLoser/pseuds/AnotherLoser
Summary: Harry’s hand is in his hair. It’s there so often Peter suspects he likes it just as much as the mutant does. Harry was still a mystery to him sometimes, even in little ways like this.[directly continued from 'Cast me far away'. You probably don't need to read that one first but it will make more sense]





	I feel like I'm drowning

**Author's Note:**

> I changed my mind about some details throughout but I think they’re all in order... If there’s a consistency problem with something here feel free let me know so I can sort it.

Harry’s hand is in his hair.It’s there so often Peter suspects he likes it just as much as the mutant does.Harry was still a mystery to him sometimes, even in little ways like this.So much between them was unsaid.They both know why there was a matted spot in his brown locks, though they never talked about it. They both know carefully untangling it no matter how long it takes was Harry’s way of trying to take care of him.

Someone once joked that Harry could be his sugar daddy if he wanted.It sparked a lighthearted debate about whether or not a sugar daddy had to be older than their sugar baby, Peter can remember with a chuckle.Harry never imposed his money though.He shares his expensive drugs, sometimes gives Peter a ride with his personal driver and twice out of their nearly three years as friends he offered to help with rent for the month.Harry didn’t want to be used for his money, Peter didn’t want to use him nor accept charity from anyone.It worked perfect for them; everything was mutual.Balanced with give and take.

They don’t talk about that either.

Peter will use his shower finally, because he has the day off from work and his only two classes of the day wouldn’t be until the afternoon, and so he actually had the time.That, and unlike Peter’s, Harry’s bathroom was always stocked with soap and body wash and shampoo.Harry might slip in behind him, depending on how much his own hair and oily face was bothering him at the moment.Despite all the jokes that could be made, there was no hidden meaning to the intimacy.At most they’ll bump into each other while trying to take turns under the strongest part of the shower spray and afterwards it’s onto coffee.

Harry’s machine makes a full twelve cups. He drinks two in the time it takes Peter to drink four.Caffeine hits him similar to alcohol; it had to be strong, it had to keep coming, but it worked quickly.If only it was as powerful, Peter always thinks to himself.Booze could knock him on his ass but caffeine hasn’t had him bouncing off the walls since he was fifteen, fairly new to his powers and trying a _Monster_ for the first time since the bite.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind or care.He never does anymore.Their friendship admittedly had a bit of a bumpy start, given their first two encounters had been under the influence and rather sloppy.  Harry once told him that they almost went to the same high school, except that he'd managed to get into just enough trouble that his father decided against the science based school in New York and instead sent him farther from home.  

Peter thinks back to MJ earlier in the day.She excused her distain for Harry easily enough. Peter doesn't doubt it much, certainly believed her in the moment, though the question of how much she was hiding from him lingers.  But then, Harry certainly didn’t remember her.

Or he was pretending not to.

There was only a fifty-fifty chance they’d talk about this either.  Peter isn't ignorant to his own paranoia of those around him, even if that was most definitely not going to be addressed.  It wasn’t the healthiest system, but then, what was?

“This one’s in there good, buddy.”Harry mumbles, bringing Peter back to the moment.

“You can leave it.” He replies with a half-hearted shrug.There’s a huff of breath against his forehead, likely accompanied by a roll of his eyes.

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re sick.What’s new?” They were both stupid.It was a bad joke that usually made anyone around them vaguely uncomfortable, but they never let it go.

Harry turns onto his back, arms slipping away from Peter’s body.“You’re gonna need to shower to fix that.Or scissors.”

“I’m not gonna bother in the shower.”

“Is that an invitation?” Looking over to his right, Peter is met with a smug grin gracing Harry’s lips.

“Like you need one.”Peter fires back, sitting up with a huff.“Where’s your phone?”

“I dunno.Why?”

“Wanna check the time.”He presses his palms into his eyes.“Mine’s probably dead.”

Harry scoffs.“Buy a charger that actually works already.”Still, both boys begin to drag themselves out of bed, and in a moment Harry was grabbing his phone off the floor.“Three-thirty-two.”

Peter laughs, only somewhat bitter.“Sleeping through my day off again…”

“Stop whining.If you didn’t sleep in you’d be bitching about how tired you are.”

“I’m tired regardless.”

“That’s the hangover talking.We’ll get you your gallon of coffee soon.”It wouldn’t do much, but Harry still couldn’t know about any of that.

Peter shuffles into the kitchen, making a B-line for the fridge while Harry goes for the coffee maker.He knows by now that it was easier to just look and take what he wants than to ask Harry about it.He usually didn't remember what's in his own apartment anyway.

Soon they both sit at the kitchen bar, eating cereal and sipping at their coffees.The quiet isn't bad for them.It rarely was.Maybe they just always had a way of fitting together.Peter only wished sometimes that it was more of a balanced, yin and yang situation rather than what they were; the bad, disastrous people feeding off each other just enough to float.

Harry reaches over to grab Peter's forearm gently.In his other hand he holds a pen that comes down on his skin.One of the more helpful things he did was leave reminders for Peter where he couldn't miss it.In this case it's just a smiley face, but it still feels nice.

"Did you remember the girl from last night? MJ?"

"I remember her last night."

"She went to high school with me."

"So you've implied."

"Did you know her back then?"

"I don't know.  Probably not but do you wanna give me a clue? What are you trying to get at here?" Harry fires back, not with an unkind tone but a scoff.

"She seemed to know you.Didn't say anything really just- it sounded kind of personal."

"Maybe she came to a party." He sniggers briefly."Got a lot of people mad at me at those things."It was a valid point.Peter can't decide how he feels about Harry's flippant tone.It probably didn't mean anything.

Harry adds a frowning face to his arm when they're done with breakfast.Peter doesn't even try to wash either mark off in the shower; at best they'd only smear anyway.Harry doesn’t join him this time.Peter can hear him in the bedroom, arguing on the phone with someone, most likely his father.He tries not to listen in, no matter how easy it is to hear with his abilities.Five minutes go by.Peter is drying himself off when Harry walks in for his turn.They don’t talk.

The day passes quickly after that.Peter goes home to look through his books, not about to forget a project because of a hangover.He couldn't afford to, really.He reads ahead some before switching gears, pulling out his Spider-Man suit and his messy notebook full of the ideas that got him this far and to improve with still.It took time to make his own suit.And it was still a far cry from the ones Tony made him in the past, but it was Peter's own creation.He liked making things like this, giving himself a sense of pride.He didn't like feeling he owed anyone anything either.

It's almost eight when he leaves home again in search of more caffeine, partly to survive the night ahead as Spider-Man without crashing, partly because it turns out Harry's phone call from earlier wasn't the last one of the day and he wasn't keen on being alone after all.

Unsurprisingly, Peter arrives first.The smell of freshly ground coffee beans hits him five feet in the door, along with whatever was being used to wipe down the tables.Of all the heightened senses, smell was Peter’s least favorite most days, especially given the city he lived in.If it was as nice as movies typically made it look, there wouldn’t be a problem.The streets of New York always had a lingering musk to them from the sewers or trash or endless pigeon shit on the sidewalk.Growing up there Peter was used to it, of course.Gaining these new abilities all that time ago however reminded him just how bad it could be.At least there were times like these though, where he could walk into a building and not only get clearer air but something comforting along with it.

He recognizes the girl behind the counter.Wild hair pulled messily into a ponytail, fair skin and a soft face.She always looked either quite tired or ready to bounce off the walls and either way always maintained her bright smile for the customers.Peter didn’t really have a favorite place, anywhere specific to go daily.He comes to this shop often enough that he remembers her name - Asha - and she remembered his.She jokes with him often too; another reason he liked her.Peter wasn’t always in the mood for it and there was no way around that, but when he needed it Asha was usually around to make fun of something meaningless.

This time her focus isn’t on other patrons to mock, instead focusing in on Peter’s arm when he hands over a five dollar bill for his coffee.

”What’s that?” She asks simply.

Peter glances down at himself briefly, double-checking what she was on about."My friend likes to leave me notes and stuff."He says with a fond little shake of his head.

"That's sweet." Asha replies with a smile, handing him his change and receipt.

With no one behind him, Peter lingers by the counter where they can continue to talk while his coffee is being made."Except when he does it with little dicks and f-bombs.”She snorts, pouting the two shots of espresso into a cup.

”Is it that blonde guy I’ve seen you around with? What’s his name?” Next she fills the cup the rest of the way with regular coffee while Peter replies,

”Yeah, that’s Harry.Nicer than he looks.”

”I’d hope so.” Asha clicks the lid on his paper cup and hands it over.“He always looks mad when I see him.” Peter snorts, and Asha smiles.“So what’s the frowney face for?”

He pauses briefly, considering it before answering, “Asking dumb questions.”

She hesitates at that, mouth opening to reply before the door opened again.  Peter doesn't have to look to know why; he's hovered and talked with Asha before with other customers around.  Immediately Peter pops the lid off of his cup and moves to the little station of creamers and sugars without another word.

Harry was an interesting kind of person, and not the kind that Peter would have guessed he'd be friends with.  He was aloof, overly confident at times  despite his insecurities- to hide them more often than not, really.  He put out an air about him that said 'rich asshole' to most, even when he was being generous at times.  And in a worse mood, like now, he looked like he could punch you and then sue for any damage to his hand in the process.

Just a minute after Peter sits down, the chair across from him is pulled out by his friend.

"So what's the old man on about this time?" Peter asks.

"What's he always on about? Fucking school and work and dumb shit."  Harry shakes his head while Peter sips quietly on his coffee.

"He's a dumb shit of a parent, but I can kind of see where he's coming from here."  Harry's eyes are on him in an instant, glaring over his cup.  "You're smart, Harry.  And we're going to a damn good school, he has no one else to give the company to- I'd be pretty stressed about you too."

"I'm not cut out for it."  Harry shakes his head again, letting his gaze fall to his drink.  "I don't want to be a scientist, or a CEO, or whatever the hell else.  I'm only in this place because he wont let me do anything else."

"He can't literally stop you from getting another job." At the returning scoff, Peter rolls his eyes.  Harry wasn't the snob he pretended to be at times, but Peter can't help but doubt how he'd handle the shift if he did detach from his father.  All he's known is the high life, aside from the times he lurked in nastier parts of town willingly.  That being the keyword; Peter grew up in lousy neighborhoods, scrapping by even when Ben was alive.  Fighting with May to let him help with a part time job at least- which she always refused because he had to focus on his future.  Living paycheck to paycheck like he did now wasn't exactly new.  Every opportunity he had, every gift he got was special.  Meaningful.  He didn't get a choice about it.

If Harry cut ties with his father to be independent, he would be no better off and not even know what to do with himself.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Then why are we here, exactly?" He asks not unkindly.

"So I can stop thinking about his shit, maybe?"

"Okay, man."  Peter shrugs.

 

It isn’t until the next day, during Peter’s lunch break in between classes that anything of significance happens again.  Gone back to that little coffee shop and greeted by his favorite barista again, this time just before she got off for the day.

She greets him with a smile and starts the conversation easy, sitting across from him at a little table by the windows, asking about his day and what classes he had before she gets to what was on her mind.

“So about Harry..” she starts, and Peter resists the urge to roll his eyes.He can predict two overused tracks she was most likely to go on already.“I mean, what’s his deal? And are you two...?”

Harry was a good looking guy, all long, lean limbs and smooth skin.The handful of freckle he had stood out in stark contrast to his pale tone, and when he didn’t bleach his hair the natural brown of it was the same.He was elegant on the surface - or at least knew how to present as such; no one else needed to know how much of a klutz he was in the kitchen or how he pouts like a child when he’s cold - and he was handsome and Peter liked to run a finger down his upturned nose when he was on a good high. Almost as much as he liked to trace his lips.

Peter wasn’t unattractive himself, but his charm was more of an acquired taste, so he’s been told, and he didn’t have money or fame to make up for it.His jawline was sharp but his hair was often messy and greasy these days.He was fit and lean under his clothes but most of his closet was oversized and old.He could find sex if he really wanted it, but he couldn’t count the number of times someone has tried to chat with him just to get to Harry.

He’s also aware of how they can look together.It wasn’t constant, and some were more observant than others, but with the way they’ve become glued at the hip and walk with arms around each other, spewing innuendos and as many _come ons_ as teasing insults- it was also common place for someone to ask if they were an item.

Often it was both.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific about him.” He replies, sipping his coffee with a quirked eyebrow.

She isn’t usually so hesitant.Just a look at her might translate that; blond curls an untamable mess on her head, a face so expressive she could light up a room with a smile and just as easily send men cowering with her stare.If she wanted to know something she asked, if she didn’t she’d tell you so, and while both were usually within reason Asha did miss cues from time to time and come across bolder than she seemed to even want to.The last time she felt she screwed something up in a conversation with Peter there was a blush on her face immediately and stammering all too familiar to himself when she finally changed the subject.Her personality was a bit confusing, but it was entirely raw from what he could tell.This felt more calculated than her norm, and that fact alone was cause for suspicion.

There’s a beat of silence.Asha was watching him carefully.  Whatever was really on her mind dismissed a second later with a soft sigh and a shrug.

[...]

Harry’s hand is in his hair.He can’t seem to feel much else; the air is light around him, cool and dry and it feels like it’s barely letting his feet touch the ground.His vision swims before him, but he has one arm around Harry’s shoulders and Harry’s is around his and his hand is holding Peter’s hair as if he couldn’t hold his head up by himself.

“You need to cut your fucking hair, Peter.” He says, and Peter can’t tell if he was just way too close to his ear or if he was actually yelling, but either way it brings a chuckle out of both of them.

“You should- you should!" he laughs, and Harry outright snorts.  When Peter thinks he's replying, his attention is already gone.  It's a familiar place in his line of sight, and as they pass the window he sees something else familiar that makes him stop with a short, excited shout.  There's no communication; Peter takes a sudden step towards the door and his friend follows, still attached at the hip.

Harry might be holding him up at this point, or maybe he was holding Harry.  Either way he's glad for it when they shuffle over to the case with cookies and sandwiches for sale- probably stale by now, being put out in the morning, but Peter doesn't care.  His coordination might be off but he still grabs three chocolate chip cookies and manages to hold onto them long enough to bring them to the register and drop them down.

Asha looks at them with curiously raised brows, the corner of her own lips threatening to pull into a smile.  Without a comment given, she begins ringing them up while Peter laughs lightly. By nothing more than proxy, Harry sniggers with him.  The more seconds pass the funnier it becomes, and when Asha tells them their total the pair only try to stifle their sounds for a moment.  So comfortable leaning on his friend, Peter nearly falls over when he has to shift to get his wallet.

He wobbles back and forth until Harry grips him by the hair again.  The laughter fades almost instantly, wide grins remaining still.

Asha’s hair was shining in the light above them.  It looks soft to the touch- a thought she seems to be aware of as she lets out a little sound of amusement of her own.

”It’s not. It’s frizzy.”

Peter blinks.

Frizzy.

Frizzy.

”It’s pretty.”  So very pretty.  He always thought so, truth be told.  Asha was tall and lean and while lacking in grace she made up for it with her friendly demeanor and bright smile.  Peter liked seeing strands fly out of her hold like springs when pulling it back.

By the time his train of thought reaches a stopping point, Harry is dropping quarters on the ground in a failed attempt to pocket the change he’s been given back.  Neither of them try to pick the coins up off the floor.

They almost walk away without the cookies before Asha stops them, Harry takes the plastic wrapped baked goods, and then they find a table not to sit down but just to unwrap the treats on before they go again.  He’ll have crumbs in his jacket pocket later that will bother him, but it’s better than trying to unwrap and walk at the same time.

Peter takes two bites of the first one and smiles.  He didn’t eat cafe food often, but he might want to keep this in mind later. They used chocolate chunks instead of chocolate chips, more gooey spread out. He likes them a lot.  Harry wasn’t as interested in sweets but he thinks he might like these occasionally.

He looks at him and chuckles, “Chocolate.”

Harry is still smiling but he doesn’t seem to understand.  Peter points at the cookie and then his mouth and says again, “ _Chocolate_.”

”Baby.” Harry says it like an endearment.  He doesn’t elaborate either despite so far having more control over his mouts than the young mutant did.

Peter smiles wider.

[...]

Asha makes him want to cry.She’s familiar and sweet and when she sees him the next day she looks both curious and sad at the same time, like she knows something is wrong but it’s not all about her sympathy- she’s just wants to know, too. Peter doesn't hang around for questions. It's different from the resentment or pity from someone that knew him before all of this.  Ned would probably be in tears if he knew how bad Peter has become.  May would too, should she still be around.  MJ has already shown him how sad and angry he's made her.

Asha doesn't look at him like she did, like the others would.  It makes it tempting to talk to her, let her in, at least on some level.

Peter isn't so sure he could handle it if he did.  Another person to disappoint.  Another to disappoint him.  Another to put at risk with his impulsive behavior or his dangerous lifestyle.  Peter wasn't meant for connections like that anymore, no matter how well intending.  The best he had was Harry's constant lurking and the fleeting comforts he provides.


End file.
